Scarlet Septette: Bloodstained Quill
by Cytrus
Summary: The scarlet mist was a whim. Traveling to the moon was a whim. But there was a time when she could afford no whims, and had no one by her side to support her. A story of many beginnings. Remilia & Patchouli centric.
1. Howl, Scarlet Moon

**Scarlet Septette: Bloodstained Quill**

_And God gave him the name Ramiel to show his "mercy" …_

_And humans made the name Emilia, to "rival" even the thought of God_

_The devil… she took both, and made them her domain_

_- P.K. "Before the Septette Rang True"_

_

* * *

  
_

Her claws shone scarlet in the moonlit night.

And their blades responded alike. Steel into flesh. Blood in the air. Screams of anger. Screams of pain. Stains on her dress and their armors. Stench of death.

But even after each blow she took and each man she felled in return, neither side would yield. Their members, although certainly finite, refused to dwindle. And her immortal body would heal anew in spite of any wound.

It had all happened one time too many for her to be blinded by rage completely, and so her mind was left to wonder: what motivated them to advance even as those around them died, why did those groups come time and time again after each failed expedition, what was the purpose behind this all?

What broke into her thoughts would have made a mortal's blood run cold.

Terrified, choking wails of a tortured child. And there, dragged by another group of steel-clad tormentors, was the slight, trembling body of her sister. _Her sister._

Whether what punctured her side in the next instant was sword or arrow she didn't care, so intent she was on what was happening up ahead. Where her body failed, her spirit burned with renewed vigor, and already the air was thick with magic, spinning around her to form ancient scarlet curses_**.**_

It lasted a second, the rush, the heat, the screams, and then all those holding her down were _no longer there._

But even as she lunged forward, spreading her tattered wings for whatever additional velocity they could provide, she knew she would be too late. That raised blade dripped with water, water called holy only because it could _kill_, and it was poised to take her only precious thing away from her.

A choked whisper rippled through the air.

That whisper alone seemed to shake the world. The whisper of a child who couldn't have spoken – too young to know words and too taken up crying in distress.

She had time enough to close her eyes and hug the ground.

Reality trembled, and, different from her own spell, this one spared her no mercy.

The force tore her from the floor and smacked into a wall before the roar of the first explosion could properly register in her head. Now facing the epicenter, she felt searing heat engulf her face, blinding light pulsating violently to find its way through her closed eyelids like it would through paper.

She lost track of what was happening immediately after. Spinning in the air, her ears ringing, her sight taken away, but oddly, she felt no pain, as if a sensation that mundane had to make lace for the inferno of disorder in her body.

There was no way for her fuzzy senses to tell her when it all ended; only her logical mind insisted it had to have ended at some point.

She reached out a trembling hand and pulled herself along the stone floor. She crawled like an insect, without opening her throbbing eyes to see the way. There was something, she was certain, something she had to do. Some purpose to this pain-inducing movement she just couldn't think clearly enough to recall. Although it felt so much like fear, she couldn't have been afraid, not with the inexplicable certainty that every threat around her was already **dead.**

The next time her hand tried to grasp onto stone, it landed on something wet. Her fingers disturbed the liquid, confirming it too thick to be water, and yes, her nostrils felt it, beneath the odors of burnt flesh and sweat, the wholesome aroma of **blood.**

Her body leapt forward by instinct, her tongue darting out and lapping the crimson substance up hungrily and needily, until her searching hands found the source and pulled it towards her awaiting fangs.

Every gulp sped her recovery up a hundredfold. Her wounds closed, dull aching left her, weary muscles refilled with strength. Almost instantly, the fog over her mind lifted.

"_Sister!"_

She pushed herself off of the ground and scanned the area hastily. Even temporarily blinded as she had been, her nature as a nocturnal hunter allowed her to quickly make out shapes in the semi-darkness. Among the dozens of bodies spread all over the mansion grounds, only one gave the slightest hint of movement.

Her steps were fast and firm, but nevertheless she trembled in fearful anticipation of the sight of her failure.

There she was, wisps of muddled blonde hair shining in the moon's silvery light, the protrusions which never grew to be her wings digging into dirt and throwing dust up into the air, her entire form rocking minutely, ceaselessly.

Her sister was unharmed, obviously. Physical wounds were unnecessary for her to suffer. Each time she breathed, it was a struggle, it was a fight for survival, her small chest pushing forward, slowly, as if overcoming a great weight, and then collapsing instantly as she exhaled. But it was the eyes, the desperate eyes of a suffocating child, that spoke most of her torment.

"Is that what you wanted!" she roared "To make her suffer!? To make me watch her suffer!? Was that what your merciful God wanted? Is he satisfied?"

No one was left to answer her.

She kneeled in front of her sister and took the diminutive body, only five years younger but half her size, into her arms. Her calming whispers would do little to ease the suffering, but was there anything else she could do?

She straightened and scanned the area. Left; body upon iron-clad body. Right; rubble from the castle walls, hiding more corpses beneath it. But none of **them. **Her wings flapped and thrust her high into the air.

From this altitude, she could appreciate the carnage in its entirety. Body parts strewn across the place, collapsed portions of walls, small lakes of blood and so much useless steel reflecting the moonlight. But not one dismembered body was clad in black and white, not one enchanter had accompanied the attacking party.

She wouldn't find even a droplet of blood powerful enough to quench her sister's deadly thirst.

She clenched her teeth. She wanted to do _something_, _anything_. If she was the only one her sister could depend on for protection in this vile world, and this was the extent of her abilities, then was her sister really on her own?

Helplessness burned her from within until she could bear it no longer and it transformed into all-encompassing fury. She snapped her head to the side, fangs bared, and the town below her castle reflected in her crimson eyes.

Tomorrow, the moon would be full.

Tomorrow, they would pay.


	2. Last Letters

Everything in life was easy, she learned.

The puny man before her trembled as she neared, his outstretched hand barely steady enough to aim at her. The device he held gave a soft _click_. Unlike four hundred years ago, nobody cared to carry around swords anymore – why bother when _guns_ were so much more convenient, requiring neither strength nor skill?

The resounding _bang_ told her a bullet had torn through the air, but she had made sure to let her aura flare out, vaporizing the thing before it could reach her. Guns were a faulty creation: unreliable, fragile, always running out of ammunition. And once they did…

"G-get away from me… devil!"

She almost fumed.

"You, young lad, can call me Remilia."

The oh so annoying whimpering turned into satisfying screams as she caught the man's leg in her grasp, easily snapping the bones of the appendage in half.

Revenge was easy, you just had to reach out your hand and do to them what they did to you.

She turned to the last man still standing, smirking at the poker in his shaky hands.

Her left eye glowed an unholy scarlet, and her sight went beyond the boundaries of time and space, seeing a truth more profound than the whimsical games of light could ever provide. Even if it lasted but a second.

"Your fate," she extended her arms to her sides, pointing at the gathering of corpses all around them with a cruel smirk "is also death."

The man dropped his weapon. His face went pale, his frame swayed and he fell tom the floor, unconscious from fear alone.

She walked up to the limp body casually, laughing a mean laugh to herself.

"I lied."

All questions were easy, you just had to seek the answers, like stumbling upon a vampire hunter guild in the nearest town.

She switched her attention to the door guarding entrance to the one room she had yet to clear of occupants. Even from a distance, she could hear the sounds of people barricading themselves within, latching desperately onto their last safe haven. Not for long.

At three times her height, the door made for an impressive barrier. But that was only because she had long stopped pouring energy into growth, and was no taller than a human child of ten. She had good use for what was spared this way.

In a deliberately slow motion, she placed her hand on the wood separating her from her prey.

Unlike her castle, this place was not saturated with her magical power, and she could not cast her best spells instantly. But so close to her defenseless targets, the incantation was half the fun.

"_Heavens fell under this blade and so will all flesh, all life shall perish under this blow,"_

They must have felt this power building up. The power which would eclipse a thousand human mages put together.

_"Devour their souls, burn their bodies, feed upon their pain, as I summon you, fulfill our bloody contract…"_

But this time around, they were the ones powerless to stop it.

Heavenly Spear Gungnir

The door flew inwards as her projectile tore through the air, sucking in everything around it and basking the room in a crimson glow. She heard no screams, because the explosion drowned them all out. She saw nothing but the clouds of dust and debris sailing through the air.

She followed the spell's path with no hesitation, expecting an immediate counterattack. Nothing came. The spacious library was silent, full of nothing but books. She saw a body lying ahead of her, missing everything from the torso upwards. Another one was to her right, charred charcoal black. A third man rested against a toppled bookcase, his body all in one piece, but with his legs bent at odd angles and a steady trickle of blood oozing from his head.

Was that all? Was that everything her tormentors had to offer? Was everything so easy, in exchange for being unchangingly, hopelessly _meaningless_?

Her hate-consumed mind wouldn't accept it.

She stormed through the library, overturned shelves, clawed into furniture, roared for whoever was hiding to come out and face her.

She devastated half the room, and then she stopped, blinked, turned around. So absurd it seemed, she had almost missed the sitting figure entirely.

Better said, she had missed the person until the unexpected sound of turning pages alarmed her, easily filling the deadly silence. And now she saw clearly: dressed in black, dark haired, but lit up by the moonlight, a female stature, casually flipping the pages of a thick book every few seconds with her back turned to the vampiress.

The mistress of the night laughed a terrible laugh.

"Bug!" she yelled "Come and face your death! You cannot escape fate by obliviousness alone," and, seeing the goading bear little effect, "Or are you too afraid to even turn around!?"

The rustle of another page being turned before she had even stopped speaking, keeping perfectly the pre-established rhythm, was like a slap to the face.

"Very well!" she creamed.

Red energy rushed to her hand, and then flew unleashed before it could take on a proper form.

Slam into the reading girl and tear her apart. That was the purpose of the attack. The vampiress watched it harmlessly splash over the air around its target, forming half a dome-like shape. The red glow quickly burned out, leaving beneath it hints of a less vibrant, purple light.

The girl remained undisturbed, not even acknowledging the fireworks. But that calm only served to fuel the vampiress's anger.

"So you can do magic, insect? Do you think you won't die under my power because of a trick?"

This time, she readied her magic for an actual spell. Only, the book-engrossed girl, almost as if prompted by someone else, finally woke up to the reality around her.

Sniffing the air, apparently sensing the smoke-like product of the collision between two magical energies, the girl looked around herself. She slowly examined all of the oil lamps in the room, searched for fallen candles on the carpet, but could find no source of fire. And as her eyes scanned the location, she locked gazes with the vampiress.

Her interest in a staring contest was lacking, though. It lasted no more than a second, and then she returned her attention to the tome before her.

If curiosity was enough to quench some of the vampiress's more scorching anger, it made being ignored no less irksome.

"Do you value your life so little, girl?" the undead princess demanded in a successfully commanding tone.

Once broken out of her reverie, the addressee could no longer easily ignore the happenings around her. With the face of a child forced to gulp down a mouthful of bitter medicine, she faced the silence-disturbing offender. Opening her mouth soundlessly once, as if in practice for the severely underused art of speech, she finally replied.

"Could you refrain from obstructing my lecture of 'Vampires - Killing Them Fast and Clean'?" the girl asked, adding, after a suspiciously long pause "Please."

The vampiress couldn't tell whether she was supposed to be amused or offended, but already she was circling round the bizarre book-mole, a predator teasing its prey.

"You knew your destiny, approaching you as sudden as it was inevitable, and saw relief in the mere illusion of seeking a solution." she narrated, trying to find a weakness in the girl "After all, were you to die reading up on how to prevent your death, it would be almost like dying _defending_ yourself. Except you are aware how futile any attempt at the later would be."

The girl's sour expression did not change as she was forced into continuing the likely fruitless exchange.

"No," she replied. And from the period of silence coming after this word, it was obvious she was sorely tempted not to speak any further, any inadequacy of her answer notwithstanding "As basic standards of order and logic require, my reading list is appropriately alphabetic" one would think she only bothered explaining for the possibility of gloating how well-organized she was "I read 'Vampire Health' and 'Vampire Insanity' before that."

**That** caught the vampiress's attention, and she stopped moving, sucked in air through her teeth, not hearing the girl muttering under her breath that_ no one seemed to want to write 'Vampires Jeopardized' to fill in the missing letter on her list_.

"'Vampire Health', you say? That you could defy the fate of a sick vampire and cure it - is that your plea?"

The girl gave her a haughty look and allowed herself a gesture which, if multiplied a thousand fold, could have passed for a nod. But the vampiress had no patience for her slow intake of breath and waited not for another long-winded declaration.

"Imagine then, a vampire child who has not grown a centimeter since she was five, who cannot breath, eat, or drink without pain, and yet defies the power of my eyes and invokes the forbidden arts of legend as if they were her own," all that coldness in her eyes was lost, now they burned "What answer can you give, savant?"

"Does the child calm after partaking in an enchanter's blood?"

The answer refused to leave the vampiress's throat, stifled with the thundering thought of_ she_ _knows_. The tables turned on who could only nod as the other went on.

"An overbearing magical metabolism, rendering accessible magical aura insufficient for survival, impeding physical processes until death," she noted "Unheard of, but technically possible. Only in the case of near-immortal beings could it last long enough to be actually recognized and studied."

"How do I save her!?"

"Move her somewhere with a greater magical density," the girl seemed to lose interest in the matter "Probably."

The vampiress latched onto a nearby table, claws sinking into the wood and the whole thing creaking under the pressure, trying to control her returning anger.

"I cannot. The symptoms get worse once she leaves the castle," she muttered through clenched teeth.

"They do? Then you should... teleport her. Along with the whole place, maybe."

Strength left her - not even a pureblood vampire could do something like that naturally, and she had no time and no one to learn from.

"Do it for me," she demanded, not even believing the girl could realistically attempt such a feat.

"Busy," the book-lover mumbled back.

Did she meanshe_ had_ the ability?

"Do it, and I'll spare your life."

But there was obviously too little intent behind that threat.

"I may only hope you'll do that regardless," the girl remarked with a sigh. Her eyes went back to the book she was reading.

The vampiress had just enough hope and hardship for desperation.

"You can have the castle once we're done."

"I take it it attracts vampire hunters? How's that different from dying here and now?"

"Then I'll give you anything within it. There's a library - any books you want."

"I'm up to 'v', you know. I don't have many subjects left to cover."

"Save my sister!" the vampiress roared helplessly, and the raw emotion made the girl jump in her seat "And if you do... I'll give you my fate."

Silence lasted a single instant.

"Your fate. Sister," the girl's voice was growing more and more incredulous with each syllable "The mere mechanics of those are..."

But she never got to finish her sentence before a gunshot silenced her.

But the one falling to the ground, with a bullet hole straight through her skull, was the vampiress.

"Now look at this," came the voice which would be taunting if it were not so gruff "Not only a vampire, but a witch, too. Fortune? Misfortune?"

The girl turned to the grinning newcomer with a frown on her face. She snapped the tome in her hands shut without a second thought. Her face paled ever so slightly.

How the man had gotten into the library without them noticing she didn't know. It seemed impossible he had used the door, though. With his monstrous height, his head simply wouldn't fit under the frame unless he crouched. Not that moving in such a position could affect how imposing he appeared - sheer bulk would make up for such small details.

The room's dim light reached most of the man's cloak, highlighting the numerous metal trinkets sticking out of his pockets. Bad as her eyesight was, she couldn't gauge what they were, but her bet was on vampire hunting equipment - throwing knives, more guns. How he had moved with all that junk on him without making a sound was another worrying question. He hid most of his face in shadows with practiced ease. But she didn't need to see his eyes to confirm just how hostile he was.

She couldn't exactly_ fight_. She had always relied on deception to survive, passing herself off as a defenseless girl. A few times, she had offered her knowledge in return for protection from greater beings - that experience had let her keep her cool as she talked with the vampire. But with the creature down for the count, there was only one thing left for her to do... Because if she wasn't dead, and the hunter had so readily relinquished the advantages of surprise, he knew his targets were weak and wanted to play.

_"Fire of life, you are within all beings and all beings can grant you form..."_

And, as she had expected, he didn't even lift a finger.

_"...Come to my hands and burn a thousand times. A thousand times be born anew!"_

The whispers surrounded her, nature urging its power to gather, then the droplets screaming to be released, each with a mind of its own. Yet the rivers of energy bore no water but scorching vermilion, dyeing the air all around her - she alone could see it, a mage, an elementalist.

_**Fire Sign: Spark Dispersion!**_

Burning down the library along with all the books contained within was the second last thing she wanted to do, even if it might give her a chance to flee. But the top spot belonged to being slaughtered in a random encounter before even accomplishing anything in life, which left her with little choice - and already the fiery blast was zeroing in on the hunter.

What didn't go according to plan was that he didn't dodge. He could just take the entire attack before it had time to disperse, she wouldn't mind. But neither was she that much of an optimist.

The spell did collide. The first sign something had gone wrong was that it started expanding before it reached the target. What sealed the deal was that, after a second of buildup, the sphere of flames collapsed, disappearing into the air with no effect whatsoever. And the menacing man stood gloatingly, not having moved an inch, with only an arm outstretched, as if that alone had stopped the spell.

"Seal of witchcraft negation," he announced with a nasty grin "The finest Vatican has to offer."

The girl bit her lip, stumped on how to react. Her arms trembled, as much from fear as from the effort she had put into her last attack. Her wide eyes followed her oppressor's every movement, with full awareness how little she could do to stop him.

"Well, I just wanted to see that look on your face before you died," the man continued, voice devoid of humor "It's time to finish this."

A flash. Sounds.

She never had a chance to react.


	3. Mitternacht

The knife meant to kill her swished through the air. Its whisper drowned within a cacophony of tortured screeching.

The man's hand went for another knife instinctively, but bewilderment stopped him from doing anything else. The girl whipped her head around, from the black mutilated mass which had taken the blow for her to the floor. She jumped away from fright. They were everywhere, small scarlet-eyed bats screeching in agony as life left them, slowly growing still.

"Unfortunately, she will be of more use to me alive," the vampiress rose from the sea of dead bodies, no trace left of the bullet which had gone through her skull "And what I want, I get."

"A pureblood," the assassin and the witch let out simultaneously.

The man let the dagger in his hand fall to the floor with a small clatter. He reached for the hilt under his belt and unsheathed a small sword.

"This changes nothing. Your magic cannot work fully here, vampire. Attempt your escape, or be slain."

He never got to hear her reply.

"I've changed my mind," the witch girl interrupted to address her unexpected savior "Get us out of here alive, and I'll free your sister from her torment."

The vampiress's eyes glowed red and her grin stretched horrifyingly, showing her bloodstained fangs.

"You've made a deal... with the devil," she hissed out in satisfaction. Her snakelike eyes peered deep into the girl.

After a second of this, she turned toward their attacker, grin never leaving her face.

"You've never seen 'magic' if you think I can't turn you into soot here and now, whatever trinkets you might hold. But we have an audience here who shouldn't get caught up in the fight and I like close combat just fine," the look in her eyes turned maniacal "It's the only way I can feel your flesh give under my claws!"

She blitzed across the room, bat out of hell, red wind blasting all obstacles out of her path. They clashed. Undead flesh met iron. The man took a step back. The wooden floor groaned. Flash. They were apart, another dagger separating them.

There was no time for a stare down.

A single whip of bat wings and a reading table soared through the air with the speed of a cannonball. The target didn't evade. Fine wood at the mercy of the giant's fist - it never stood a chance. The two halves fell to the ground, splinters filled the air, paper and pens rained on the hunter's head and he didn't even notice, so focused he was on the vampire now above him.

His sword leapt on its own. Slash, swipe, spin and now their faces were nearly touching, but his fist would separate them, lest the vampire's claws take his head off in a single strike.

Their bodies collided and hers, smaller and lighter, was sent flying straight into a bookcase, a loud snap!, and through the furniture a mere blink of an eye before the wood and a hundred tomes collapsed upon her.

Laughable pinpricks, what damage could that do?

She stood up and went to meet her enemy once more. He did the same, sharing her feral grin. He towered above her. She was his equal in speed, superior in strength. They had madness to spare.

The magician watched in astonished horror as they tore the entire library asunder in their insane spar. Blood, screeching bats and killing intent thick enough to impair her breathing. She knew some support spells. Only, she wouldn't be able to aim with her trembling hands or chant with her tongue turned to stone. Her will had been entirely enslaved by the crescendo of carnage before her.

The song of battle reached its trembling peak.

The vampiress had lost half her left wing - its remnants held the hunter's sword in place. The man's other hand was crushing the undead girl's throat, keeping her at a distance her shorter arms couldn't overcome. Their eyes were locked.

With no warning, the vampiress's right wing smashed into the arm pinning her, breaking the hold and letting a sickening twin snap fill the air.

When he next stood up, the man's left arm hung limply by his side, bent right above the elbow. He couldn't possibly defeat her in this state, but, with the rage of battle still filling her, the vampiress watched to see whether he would throw himself at her again, accepting certain death with open arms.

He wouldn't. With his sword still clutched his working right hand, he leapt sideways at the observing and unsuspecting magician.

The young witch never knew what hit her. One moment the battle was distant and unreal, another she had a sword in her face, there was a roar and then her lungs lacked air and her legs were no longer on the ground.

Her back slammed into something hard and she cried out. Something thick and sticky was dripping onto her robe.

She most certainly felt pain. Still, a nagging part of her brain yelled at her that the volume of pain was, in fact, insufficient. As in, it didn't explain what had happened.

She gathered her wits enough to realize she was lying on her back, with no significant injury. On her lap was the vampiress, her face torn into two by a deep gash. The injury oozed blood and the blinded vampire whimpered painfully.

"And with this show of chivalry" the giant man intoned, already upon them "let the spectacle end!"

The sword rose right above their heads, and there was no way they could block or evade.

The blade sailed through the air and entered flesh.

Their executor stared in disbelief, not at the blade embedded in his own foot but at the clawed hand protruding from his chest.

He crumbled with a look of utter incomprehension still on his face. His falling form now revealed another person standing behind him. Extremely lanky, clad in black tight-fitting clothes, with flaming red hair and two pairs of bat-like wings coming from her head and back, the man's killer approached the lying witch and knelt by her side.

"Master?"

The newcomer grabbed the vampiress roughly by the arm and threw her off the witch unceremoniously.

"Your concealed presence spell saved us as always, master."

Extending her bloodied hand, the succubus helped her master up from the ground.

"Your condition, master?"

"I'm fine, Koakuma," the witch replied, rubbing at a sore spot.

"Master, I..." Koakuma began uncertainly.

"You judged well," the girl cut her off "Direct confrontation wouldn't have worked, you had to wait for him to get close to make use of the cloaking enchantment. What are a few bruises if I'm alive?"

Koakuma bowed with a look of great relief on her face.

"But we still have a problem," the witch went on.

She walked up to the pile of wasted furniture where the vampiress now rested, hands clutching at the wound on her face.

With a small sigh, the witch lowered herself to the ground, caught the vampire by her shoulders and pulled her into an embrace with their heads resting on each other's shoulder blades.

"The steel was probably enchanted to inhibit regeneration processes. A magician's blood should counteract the effect, though."

Koakuma started in alarm.

"Master! If need be, let her drink mine!"

The witch shook her head.

"Your blood doesn't contain magic, Koakuma. It's made of it. Since half the regeneration process is chemical, this is actually disadvantageous. Anyway, right now, we need you to be in top shape more than me."

The girl knew Koakuma was about to renew her protest, but she didn't give her the time to do so.

"Try not to overdo it, vampire. I'm... a bit... anemic."

The vampiress hesitated, having never bitten willing prey.

"Come on, time is of the essence," the witch urged.

A second later she stiffened and moaned as fangs entered the nape of her neck. With every gulp, a part of her disappeared and went into the other, leaving her with a newly awakened feeling of emptiness and wanting.

With the soothing chemicals present in vampire saliva, it didn't hurt at all. The one making a pained expression was Koakuma, observing this from a distance.

The vampire and the witch parted.

The vampiress's face bulged; whole lumps of skin falling off from where she had taken the sword slash. The skin darkened and transformed into bats as it detached, but the creatures were already dead as they fell to the ground. Fresh layers of skin appeared where this happened and the deep wound was gone without a trace in record time.

For a short moment, everybody remained silent.

"I didn't fulfill my part of the deal," the vampire spoke "The devil's contract didn't bind you to help me."

The witch nodded in confirmation as she tried to stand up on wobbly legs.

"Then why?" the vampiress demanded.

Accepting Koakuma's steadying hand, the witch shrugged her shoulders.

"If you're a pureblood vampire, I could use your magic for my own purposes. There's probably half an army waiting downstairs that we have to get away from now, anyway."

Again, their eyes met.

"And after that... your fate and the sister of the devil, those are things I'd definitely like to see," now the girl smiled "And, for a change, a happy family."


	4. Those Who Cleft Truth and Fate Alike

Remilia watched the snoozing witch from where she stood propped up against the wall. She would have plopped down and napped herself, bored as she was, but the succubus working next to them always found the time to shoot a glare her way between every sigil and circle she painted.

Frail as the creature appeared, it had torn through the chest of a man the size of an ox with no weapon but her own claws. Add to that the fact this Koakuma seemed rather obsessive about her 'master', and Remilia had every reason to fear waking up with her throat slit open. Whether such an assassination method was any threat to a vampire wasn't the issue here.

Witch or not, why was a teenage girl travelling around with a succubus of all things?

"If you'll excuse me... Koakuma?

Remilia hated how uncertain her voice came out. She wasn't nervous - she simply hated the way the sound carried in the spacious room. She normally avoided the place. It would be perfect for holding a dance party, but sheer size made it discomforting to remain there alone. Having two other people with her only made a small difference.

"Are you sure your master is alright? She's been sleeping for quite some time."

Koakuma didn't even look up from her work to respond.

"If there were cause for concern, I'd be the first to take action. But it's good to see you worry, vampire, seeing as her current exhaustion is all thanks to you."

Someone was speaking up against her. It was a first and Remilia failed to get angry.

"It would be prudent to notice I saved her life."

"What would be prudent to notice is that you were the one who endangered her in the first place."

Remilia was stumped. Koakuma was essentially right.

Their conversation died at this point. Unused to having company in general, Remilia had no idea how to approach so antagonistic an acquaintance. The creature in question was content with turning the floor into one large painting with admirable diligence and attention to detail.

_"This will be a long night,"_ Remilia thought.

"It would have been better if you hadn't shown up at all," Koakuma offered suddenly "Master might have shown interest in you, but long-term, you are not the type she requires."

The vampiress perked up at hearing this. She had already inwardly decided that she had nothing to lose by trusting maybe the only person in this world who could free her sister from the endless torment she was a prisoner of. Nevertheless, knowing the magician's true goals would let her play her cards just right if it came to negotiations.

"She seeks a specific type of vampire, then?"

Koakuma actually paused in her work to give Remilia and incredulous look.

"I don't think vampiric nature has anything to do with it; I'm saying you specifically are unable to satisfy Master's needs," not seeing comprehension dawn on the vampire's face, Koakuma tried once more, with more emphasis "_Needs_."

It was no use. Remilia still had no idea what the succubus... Succubus. Oh, right. _Oh, damn._

Back to painting and with her back turned to the vampiress, Koakuma never saw Remilia flailing her arms in mute protest.

"Seeing how ancient all of you vampires are, I'd expect you to at least have the theory worked out, if you were not lucky enough to confirm anything in practice."

"Sufficiently precise theory lessens the need for practice, Koakuma," the magician's sleepy voice broke into their almost-conversation "What were you two talking about, mukyuu?"

The witch rubbed her eyes and looked expectantly at Koakuma, not noticing Remilia's flustered face.

"More importantly," the witch said as her dizziness wore off "how are the preparations?"

Remilia was thankful for the change of topic, Koakuma didn't care either way.

"I'm just about to finish here, Master," the succubus reported dutifully "the corridors have already been prepared."

"Wait," Remilia groaned, realizing too late that half her castle had been covered in what, years later, would be called graffiti "you painted the corridors too?"

"The corridors only require basic channeling support seals," the witch girl muttered, more to herself than as an answer to the vampire's protest "It's this room that will have to survive a dynamic distortion sphere. At least until the secondary reaction chain begins. At that point Newton's inertia alone should buy us enough time for the debris not to matter..."

Remilia gave the succubus doodling on the floor and the mumbling witch a final wary glance. It was time for the big question to be asked.

"Now, if you'd be so nice as to inform me about our great plan..."

The witch turned to her, understanding clearly she was the one being addressed. The 'why' seemed a bit more elusive, and she blinked a few times before it all clicked.

"Ah, yes, the plan," she let out "I was just thinking about the details."

For some reason, the scene made Remilia really, really worried.

"The main problem is that your sister's metabolism exceeds what resources are available here. This isn't sickness per se; her body simply has greater needs than the environment she was born in can provide for. When something like this happens to another species, the newborns die before they can register the world with their own eyes. What complicated matters here, if in a good way, is that you vampires are somewhat resistant to dying in general."

Remilia listened attentively.

"If her condition is caused by her surrounding, it would be logical to move her to a place with a higher magic saturation level. The issue preventing that is that the symptoms worsen when she leaves the castle filled with your magic, as you informed me. I can only think of one way to evade this problem, and that is all of us changing our location instantaneously, along with as much of the castle as possible. A mass matter displacement spell - in other words, teleportation."

"Will that work even if my sister remains in the basement, three floors below us?" Remilia cut in.

"If my assumptions are correct, and I have no record of making mistakes, she will be dragged along us on this particular journey as long as she is in the same town we are. If she were on the same floor, she'd probably suck out all the magic we'll be doing here. But that's not my greatest concern."

Their list of concerns was obviously ordered differently. But Remilia decided not to linger on the point.

"And what would that be?"

"You might have read about displacement magic in story books," the witch said "and for the most part, that's exactly where it belongs. Binding objects and allowing them to be summoned from anywhere to people is doable, and about as far as you can go with this art. For matter displacement to work properly, a stronger or equal beacon must draw a weaker or equal subject. In other words, the magic is operated from the exit point, and not the starting point, making its actual functionality little different from whatever summoning magic you might know."

Remilia doubted the witch had an all-powerful friend somewhere far away aware of their predicament and ready to bail them out. She didn't speak up, though.

"The only way to bypass this limitation is to establish a channel connection, with the entry and exit points massive enough to render the magical volume of whatever is being transported unimportant," the magician made a sweeping gesture with her arms, encompassing all of the giant seal the room had been now turned into "As long as a magician of tremendous power and insight is there to prepare those points."

"You possess the insight," Remilia interjected "but not the raw power to do so, yes? That's why you wanted me to join you once you found out I was a pureblood vampire."

"I planned to attempt this journey on my own in a few years," the witch admitted "Witches gain most of their magical power throughout adolescence, so my abilities have yet to be fully formed."

"But even if we establish the point here," Remilia drilled further "what about the exit?"

"That's where the tricky part comes in."

Koakuma joined the conversation, apparently done with her task.

"How many magic-users have you met in your life, vampire?"

"A few," Remilia thought further back "A dozen."

"And in the last hundred years?"

"None."

Koakuma nodded.

"Witches, wizards, vampires, phantoms, sprites, oni, all the creatures who rivaled humans," the succubus listed off soberly "they are disappearing from this world at a frightening rate. Even my own kin, the lesser demons, are no longer being contracted and all return to Makai, our reversed dimension."

"Humans either ignore the existence of magical creatures entirely or send out entire armies to get rid of them," the magician picked up where her servant left off "The witch hunts were merely a taste of things to come. Still, those powerful and immortal couldn't have possibly been all slain. You are an example of what couldn't be destroyed by force. I'm an example that the art of magic can be hidden from others. What happened to all others like us? The question led me all my life, even here. And what made it valid... is the law of equal exchange."

Remilia leant in, enraptured.

"Things do not disappear. They can move, change their physical structure or combine with other things. They can even turn into energy - there is no proper theory describing that yet, but matter and energy are just two different sides of the same coin. But under no circumstances can anything just disappear."

Heading toward the grand conclusion of her speech, the magician took a deep breath and... changed the topic.

"Everyone who teleports dies," without batting an eye, she went for the non-sequitur of the year "If they simply disappear from where they should be, then they were not only destroyed but wiped from existence. The law of equal exchange normally stops this from happening and nullifies magic attempting it. How the magic actually works is by making it easier to "create" things in the exit point and insisting on the "disappearance" of things in the starting point. Since the laws of the universe will remain true even if what is supposed to exist here exists somewhere else, the natural order of things can be misled this way. However, the subject of teleportation should be considered to have died and then undergone reconstruction."

Remilia gave her a blank stare. Getting her head around that and finding out what significance it had, if any, would be quite a daunting task.

The witch misunderstood her look entirely.

"Indeed, it is a shocking truth, but you deserved to know it all the same. And now, behold!"

Another grand gesture followed.

And then a coughing fit.

Remilia looked on in mute bemusement as the magician used one hand to cover her mouth and the other one to wave off a worried Koakuma in a short spectacle.

"Behold!" a successful second attempt "After many a sleepless night" that much was likely true, the witch looked like someone who had trouble sleeping at night "I've devised a seal system capable of taking us from here to here, say, a centimeter higher!"

"Not... impressive," Remilia let out, but went unheard. The witch's enthusiasm only grew.

"If the magic is sustained, a leap occurs, and we will be constantly warped between the two points, halfway between existence and non-existence!"

Half-scared Remilia saw the mood of the speech had infected Koakuma and the succubus was now nodding vigorously and clenching her fists in excitement.

"Finally, once the single seal system responsible for both points is destroyed by a timed energy surge, there will be no place for us to be properly restructured and we will cease to exist!"

The witch stared at her with an expression of "Oh. Yes"' on her face.

Remilia looked right back at the witch with an expression of "Hell. No." on her face.

Heavy silence.

"I've changed my mind," Remilia, with the tone of a child who has just been tricked into eating bitter medicine when it thought it was candy "Get out of my castle."

The witch didn't take that command to heart.

"I told you all magical creatures have been disappearing. But I also told you they should be reappearing elsewhere for the sake of the laws of the universe. The more I thought about it, the clearer an idea formed in my mind. They disappear from this world. They should be reappearing in another."

Now she lowered her voice, but still it carried well in the empty room.

"A different world created within ours. A magical world sucking in the magic left in ours, beaconing for all magical beings to come to it. An illusionary world for illusionary creatures."

Remilia told herself she shouldn't let herself be dragged into the madness. But it was tempting. A place where her sister could truly live. A place where she herself could spread her wings. Tempting.

"All illusionary creatures would start being born there instead of here. Well organized societies of supernatural beings would notice the creation of that world and migrate there. But loners like us were left behind, knowing nothing, until we are swallowed by the world of humans."

"You planned to escape this by disintegrating yourself!?" Remilia yelled.

"The Scarlet Devil is a legend. The Sister of the Devil, the Sickly Witch and her Demonic Servant. Once we are gone, the world will have a choice," the witch rebuked steadily "return us here against all odds, or make us into illusionary creatures. If an illusionary world exists, there must be a boundary setting it apart from this one. That boundary draws in magic... and it will become the exit point of our teleportation."

The witch extended her hand to the baffled Remilia.

"But the only way for us to succeed, is for you to help me."

Remilia shook, her left eye already blazing a deep crimson.

"Your fate is to survive," she hesitated "But that will happen even if I reject your offer..."

The magician never lowered her hand.

"But I..." Remilia frowned, not believing her own thoughts "I want to try!"

Two hands met and grasped each other. Two pairs of eyes locked in a promise.

"Well then," the witch ventured "I'll need a name to call you by."

"Remilia Scarlet," the vampiress replied with a vicious grin "The embodiment of scarlet devil."

"Remi will do," the witch said "Nice and short, good for emergencies."

Remilia blinked.

"Wait a minute!"

But the witch was already going on.

"You may call me Patchouli Knowledge."

"Patch will do," Remilia butted in "nice and short, good for emergencies."

"Patchouli knowledge," the witch repeated.

Remilia shook her head, feigning confusion.

"Patchouli is a tongue killer, and 'Knowledge' is so obviously fake. Isn't that English for _Wissenschaft_?"

Patchouli fumed for a second, and then nodded.

"Patch it is, then. It'll be good to hear my name, even if a shortened version."

Remilia noted that her new friend made no effort to defend the last name as genuine.

"Koakuma you know," Patchouli said "Which leaves us with your sister."

"My sister?" Remilia echoed.

"Yes, your sister," Patchouli paused "Her name."

Now Remilia understood, but she still froze. Her sister was just... Sister. Little Sister. She had needed no other name.

"I don't know."

Koakuma snickered. Patchouli scratched her head.

"Call her Flandre, then," Patchouli offered.

Remilia gave her a blank stare.

"It's the name of a beautiful land which couldn't find its true home in all of its history. Let's hope its future at least is bright."

After a second's hesitation, Remilia nodded in approval.

"Reality and illusion bind strongest through a name. And thus we are all set," Patchouli announced, moving toward the center of the room and gesturing for Remilia to follow her.

"I'll be controlling the spell while you provide the power. Koakuma will watch over the process in case I mess something up" Patchouli instructed "You've drunk my blood, which should make our synchronization rate better and energy channeling easier."

Patchouli threw off her black robe and handed it to Koakuma, who now stood dutifully by her master's side.

"We're still talking about raw magical energy traveling through the air, so any clothes we have on would simply ignite. It's better to remove them beforehand."

"Oh." Remilia said, reaching to remove her dress.

As a vampire, she rarely paid attention to the temperature. She seldom had contact with anyone else, too. Clothes were a mere accessory for her. She threw them at Koakuma's feet carelessly.

A mean look from the succubus and a moment of thought later she realized she was now naked.

A furtive glance of her own revealed that Patchouli had also had enough time to disrobe. Only, the witch seemed unperturbed by the situation.

If Remilia thought Koakuma would intervene, those hopes were dashed as the succubus walked calmly away from the inner circle, all their garments in tow.

"Um... I..."

This nervous stutter was equally unsuccessful at preventing Patchouli from creeping closer and grabbing her by the arms.

"Your sister will be dragged with us after the first warp, and I suspect we will immediately start losing power. I don't know what will happen if the magic circles don't have enough power to sustain themselves, so we must be done with it before that happens. Try not to block the energy transfer, just relax."

When Patchouli actually hugged her close, Remilia was as stiff as a board.

"Is this... really alright?" the vampire asked meekly.

"No problem. The height difference affects nothing," Patchouli replied, missing the point entirely.

The height difference meant Remilia was now smothered in Patchouli's developing bosom. Her heart pounded, and the thought whether her pale skin could redden in embarrassment flashed in her mind.

She only appeared to be ten years old!

"Try to loosen up a bit," Patchouli whispered.

Remilia stifled a gasp as the magician's hands trailed circles on her bare back, tickling her in the sensitive spot where her wings began. With the sudden intake of air, a haunting scent attacked her nostrils.

Dust, old books and some hidden, alluring smell. What did Patchouli use to wash her hair? Remilia would like to try it out. Finally start caring for her own appearance, accumulate wealth befitting her castle, experiment with her magic freely... If only she could...

The moment wild thoughts snatched her consciousness away, the feeling came.

Vertigo. Colors flashed, smudged, like paint trailing down the wall but - she was here! Flandre, her sister, the familiar presence so close to her!

And then it was gone again. Flash, whoosh, cartwheels in the air and she could feel them, her sister and even Koakuma, but they were swirling wildly around her.

The warmth embracing her was the only constant, and she leaned into it, drowning in words spoken too fast to tell them apart and a breast heaving painfully in and out, in and out.

For just a blink of an eye, the chant broke off, her ears heard a heart give a pained throb and a cold feeling overcame her.

She let her arms shoot out, wrap around her support, no she didn't hesitate and no she had no idea what she was doing.

"Your fate..."

Her power exploded inwards just as it was swirling outwards, invoking flames around her body and within her soul, her eyes swam in her blood but it was near she had never attempted a forceful change-

"...is to succeed!"

There was nothing.

Not that Remilia felt nothing.

She was nothing.

What the vampiress did feel was her body connecting with the hard, cold, damp floor.

Her ears rung, but she heard nervous laughter.

"I messed up.. ha ha..."

Remilia turned, panicked, to the laughing Patchouli.

But the extent of the mess-up was a succubus covered from head to toes in soot from burned clothes. The energy flow radius had been larger than expected.

"I'm shorter! Purple hair! Not even human! People and their crazy imagination!" Patchouli cried with no trace of distress in her voice "I thought the castle would be moved, but we're somewhere else. It must have been to boring-old-real, ha!"

What followed the exclamation was a coughing fit. Some things did stay the same.

But Remilia was distracted by something pulling on her arm, and she looked down to see her sister. For the first time smiling, gurgling happily, Flandre fought for her sister's attention.

When Remilia proved too baffled to make any move at all, the tiny vampire crawled onto her lap on her own.

"And now..."

Remilia turned to see a grinning Koakuma.

"Begin your lives, Scarlet Devils."

**BLOODSTAINED QUILL **

**END**

* * *

AN: Welcome. Bloodstained Quill is the first part of Scarlet Septette and also my introduction to writing Touhou fanfiction. I hope it was a pleasurable one.

Continuity Notes:

1) Patchouli was a human. Though, as she explained, she is reborn a youkai after the teleport.

2) Yes, Flandre spent the first four hundred years of her existence in endless torment. Sorry.

3) Koakuma comes from Makai, why not.

That's all for now, I guess. I await your comments. Until next time.

ver.1.1 I replaced the original incantations with English equivalents for increased precision and accessibility.

~ Cytrus


End file.
